Whoops!
by Franciscan Gypsy
Summary: Scott, early morning, coffee, and some unfortunate bystanders. It's been a while since I've written humor. Please be kind... :D


"Whoops."

That was never a good sound to hear at 4 am, especially not when you had only gone to bed at 2 am. Scott Summers swore that he would kill Bobby Drake if the "whoops" required more effort from him than a glare.

"Whoops _what_?"

His irritation must have come out in his voice. Bobby, Remy LeBeau, and Logan all turned quickly. Bobby looked guilty, Remy looked much less so, and Logan looked like he didn't give a hoot if Scott might be annoyed.

"Um… morning, Scott," Bobby ventured. He had known Scott long enough to see that the other man was working on _very_ little sleep and was hence unlikely to be magnanimous.

Scott saw no harm into living up to his expectations. He glared darkly from behind his ruby-quartz glasses. "It's 4 am, Bobby. How the HECK can you consider that morning?"

Remy glanced at his watch in surprise. "It's four already? Where has de night gone?"

Bobby was edged off as target number one on Scott's hit list. "DON'T tell me you haven't gone to bed yet."

He was going to kill the Cajun. How dare the younger man look so energetic and AWAKE.

Scott himself felt dead. He didn't feel 30, he felt 60. Or what he imagined 60 to feel like at the very least.

Remy shrugged. "Hokay. Ah won't then." He bent down to wipe up some coffee from the floor.

That's when it finally hit Scott's exhausted mind why Bobby had gone "whoops" in the first place. He had not merely spilled the coffee pot, but had broken it.

Evil Scott was replaced by shocked, grieving Scott.

"You killed the coffee maker."

"It was an accident!" Bobby protested, glaring at the snickering Logan and Remy. Both of _them_ had their cigarettes to wake them up if need be.

In the back of his mind, Scott noted that the team's two scoundrels were also smoking in the house – a definite no-no – but the immensity of the coffee problem overwhelmed this observation.

"You KILLED the COFFEE MAKER!!!"

Bobby's eyes widened. _Omigosh, _his gawking face seemed to say, _Slim has completely lost it this time_.

"It's… a _coffee maker_, Scott!" he protested, "I'll get it replaced today once it's a reasonable hour and the stores are open."

Logan glanced over at Scott, showing slight concern – which was a lot for him. "Relax, Cyke. The kid didn't mean it."

"Ya can always have tea instead, boss," Remy offered rather dryly. He was concerned, but if he thought that he could hide that from Scott, he would.

This was all filed away someplace in the brain of the X-Men's stalwart leader, but most of him was too involved in his irrational fit to pay heed. Scott did not function well on two hours of sleep.

"I don't WANT tea. I want coffee. And now the coffee maker's dead. And we won't have coffee to who knows when. And I have a Danger Room session scheduled for today. And I promised Jean I'd take her shopping. And if some of our enemies decide to make trouble…"

The fast-paced stream of words that uncharacteristically came tumbling out of his mouth worried Scott's teammates even more. Bobby looked like he wanted to sneak out, but since Scott was in the doorway still, that option was out of the question.

Scott was blubbering now. Bobby decided on moving behind Logan and Remy. That way if Scott went homicidal, he would kill them first.

His back hit the fridge and a bell went off in Bobby's mind. He shoved Remy forward so that he could get into the fridge.

There it was, it all it's cold glory: Jean's last frappucino. "Bingo!" Bobby yelped, snagging the prize.

Remy glanced behind him and grinned at the object in Bobby's hand. Scott was now yelling at Logan. The frappucino was found just in time to stop a bloody brawl that Remy and Bobby would have the misfortune of being in the middle of.

The Cajun X-Man took the cold coffee from Bobby's hand and sidled next to Scott. "Scotty, look. It's coffee."

Everyone held hostage in the kitchen let out a sigh of relief as Scott downed the coffee. Immediately their leader calmed down and regained his normal straight-laced posture.

"So," he said, as if his outburst had never happened, "I would suggest we all get to bed if we wish to be ready for our Danger Room exercise today."

Scott nodded at them all solemnly and exited with the frappacino bottle still clutched in one hand.

Remy, Logan, and Bobby all looked at each other.

Remy spoke first. "So what are we gonna do when Jeannie discovers dat her frappacino's gone?"

The men all looked grave. Logan reached into his jeans pocket to pull out his wallet. He started counting the money within.

He looked up at the two younger men, who were staring at him.

"Get out yer wallets. _7-11_ should still be open an' we're goin' shoppin'."


End file.
